


In The Night We Shall Go In

by lunesque (Moriavis)



Category: No Rest for the Wicked (comic)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-19
Updated: 2010-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-12 10:39:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/124016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moriavis/pseuds/lunesque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That was only a monster, wearing a comfy old skin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Night We Shall Go In

**Author's Note:**

> Have I mentioned that [](http://lady-krysis.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**lady_krysis**](http://lady-krysis.dreamwidth.org/) is a huge enabler? This was also written for the [](http://femslash-today.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**femslash_today**](http://femslash-today.dreamwidth.org/) [Fireworks 10 Porn Battle](http://community.livejournal.com/femslash_today/291881.html?thread=2731305#t2731305). I'm shell shocked.

Red stared silently into the campfire as Clare curled up on a pile of leaves to sleep and Perrault vanished for places unknown, most likely hunting a bird or a rodent that had caught his attention. Her gaze flicked to November, and their eyes connected over the flames. November was the one to break first, averting her eyes before carefully laying down on the ground, back turned toward Red. Red stood, her cloak swirling around her as she stepped away into the darkness.

She wouldn't ask for November's forgiveness for what she did to the Witch.

Monsters deserved to die.

Red stalked silently around the forest, the campfire an easy point of reference in the forest. There were no wolves in these woods, either, but she still felt the urge to hunt.

There had always been a hollow ache inside of her, ever since that night, and she thought that November was a kindred spirit, that she had understood.

Apparently she had been wrong.

Regardless, Red still cared about her, even if November couldn't bring herself to forgive. If Red had to choose between saving November's life and damaging their friendship, then that was no choice at all.

There was the snap of a branch behind her, and Red whirled around, automatically raising her ax in anticipation. November stared at Red with wide eyes, her hand outstretched, and Red lowered her blade, staring back at November through the fringe of her hair. "What do you want?"

"I was just—I was thinking," November stammered, dropping her hand and wrapping her arms around herself. "About—what happened."

Red stared at November, waiting for her to continue.

"I—"

"Can't say the words, can you?" Red asked. She felt hard, brittle; she spat her words like jagged glass.

But November was fearless, green eyes shadowed, but determined. "The Witch—I just want to know why."

Red moved towards November, fast and certain. She dropped her ax and cupped November's face in her palms, fierce, but gentle, so gentle; she would be damned a second time before she bruised November. "You know why. You _know_ why."

"Red—"

Red pressed her mouth to November's forehead, trailed her lips down over November's cheeks, soft as a petal. She paused just before touching November's mouth, November's breath warm and quick with surprise. "Never hurt you," Red managed, her voice little more than a harsh whisper. "I would never—"

November took a step back and looked up at Red; whatever she saw in Red's eyes flushed her cheeks pink. "I know. I know you wouldn't." November's small hands moved in calm and precise movements, pushing back Red's hood and curling her fingers into Red's hair. Red felt her own heart speed up, an intense tenderness filling her from some part of herself she thought lost, and it was terrifying, terrifying like the black, dank insides of the wolf that had eaten her, sweet as the promises that led her off of the path she had known, where woods once familiar had become treacherous.

Red's breath caught in her chest, and as quickly as the terror had come, it faded away. There was no doubt here. There was only November, and Red would go to the end of the world to chase the shadows from her eyes. "Let me show you."

Red could see the hesitation in November's eyes and held her breath, waiting to give November the choice. After a long, agonizing moment, November moved the scant inch closer to part her lips and give Red a shy open-mouthed kiss. Red made a small growl of pleasure, and she cradled the back of November's head, skimming her fingers of her other hand lightly over November's back to feel the involuntary shiver that followed her touch. Red had a vision, a fantasy that she had always refused to admit existed, of November naked beneath the moonlight, Red's cloak spread beneath her like angel wings, a beautiful pool of freshly spilled blood. Red would be able to take her time then, would be able to map out every secret place of November's body, kiss her poor bruised feet and touch her until November had no choice but to understand what she meant by _never_.

Here, in these woods that were strange to her, Red couldn't bring herself to voice the desire. Instead, she kissed November back with a slow thouroughness, licking into November's mouth for the heat and wet, the shudder of want that raced fiercely through her. November slid her hands beneath the fall of Red's clock to pull her closer, and although she would deny it to her dying breath, Red couldn't help from shivering, her skin prickling from wariness and desire.

Red felt slow and clumsy as she carefully unbuttoned November's bodice, and she left a trail of kisses against November's jaw, down her throat. The sound of November's voice, a soft surprised cry, made arousal clench like a cramp in Red's abdomen. That was part of her, too, part of the darkness that had been left her by the wolf, the kinship she had felt with the horrid Witch, the hunger to consume. Red went still for a moment and took a calming breath. She rest her head against November's chest, careful not to clutch too tightly as she listened to the thump of November's heart, and November stroked her fingers through Red's hair. They didn't move for several minutes, and slowly Red regained control, felt safe enough to turn her head and dip her tongue into the valley of November's newly revealed cleavage.

November's nipples were wrinkled and hard from desire, and Red bent her head to carefully lift one breast out of the confining material of November's bodice, licking at it, relishing in the clench of November's fingers in her hair. Red carefully squeezed November's other breast through the fabric of her dress as she circled her tongue around November's exposed nipple again. After a second of teasing, Red released the nipple and blew on it, watching it harden further. She wanted to suck hard, to bite at every inch of skin she could see, to leave her mark etched permanently on November's body, but she held herself back, content with the way November panted for air, her pale throat exposed, the long fall of hair down her back.

"Let me," Red growled, and November nodded immediately, her eyes glazed with desire and trust. Red kissed November again, curling her tongue along the roof of November's mouth as she gathered the fragile girl into her arms. She dropped down to the ground, November's thighs spread as she straddled Red's lap, and curved November's full skirts beneath her knees so that she wouldn't bruise in this position either. "Does it hurt?"

November blinked, and even in the shadows of the trees around them Red could see that November's mouth was swollen from the few kisses they had shared. "I'm fine, Red," November promised, still stroking her fingers through Red's hair like she didn't know what to do with her hands. Red nodded and slipped her hand beneath Novembers skirts, finding her vulva already slick with arousal, the curls of her mound damp and clinging to her skin. November gasped loudly, and Red gentled her fingers, cupping the back of November's head with her other hand and bringing it to her shoulder, where her cloak would muffle November's cries.

Red pressed a finger into November with as much tenderness as she could muster, and November immediately clenched down on the intrusion, her body so tight that it made Red ache in sympathy. Red stroked November's back soothingly and gently withdrew her finger, only to press it back in. She tentatively pressed her thumb against November's clit, and November gave a full body shudder, spreading her legs as far as she could around Red's thighs as she muffled her cries against Red's shoulder.

"Shh," Red said, nuzzling at November's hair.

"What are you doing to me, Red?" November gasped, her hips twitching downward against Red's hand.

Loving you, Red didn't say. She lowered her head back down to November's breast again, licking at the soft flesh with the flat of her tongue as she moved her thumb in gentle circles against November's clit. Red thrust her finger into November at the beginning of every new circle of her thumb, feeling wet and open herself at each spill of sound from November's throat. With a suddenness that caught Red off-guard, November's body stiffened, her nails digging into Red's scalp as she shuddered, her internal muscles clenching tight around Red's finger, and Red felt a deep, strange pleasure well from inside of her as she watched November take satisfaction from her touch.

Red continued her movements until November melted against her and whimpered at each touch to her sensitive flesh. She smoothed her hand down November's thigh, leaving a slightly sticky trail on November's skin, and then carefully buttoned November's bodice until the only thing that looked untoward was the flush of November's cheeks and the swell of her mouth.

"Let's go back to camp," November said, her voice shaky. Red nodded and helped November to her feet, remembering her ax and faithfully guarding November until they got to the fire, where Clare was sleeping. Perhaps not peacefully, but sleeping. November and Red remained silent as November curled back into the place she had previously left, and Red turns her back to the fire, staring out at the trees.

Perhaps the wolves had left, but there was always another monster to take their place.


End file.
